


All Roads Lead Home

by vinegar-and-glitter (vinegarandglitter)



Series: One of a Kind [5]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Christmas, Gen, One of a Kind verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegarandglitter/pseuds/vinegar-and-glitter
Summary: At Christmas, all roads lead home. - Marjorie HolmesDecember 2020. Connor, Gus and Seamus spend Christmas together.Set during Chapter 34 of One of a Kind.





	All Roads Lead Home

**Author's Note:**

> Have some Christmas fluff!

Connor sleeps through most of the flight to Minnesota.

 

Which doesn’t really surprise him, to be honest. He hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately. Not when it’s far too tempting to just get into his car and drive to Boston to see Evan in the middle of the night.

 

A part of him knows it’s risky to be visiting quite so often, with the threat of DYAD looming over them, but another part of him just wants to throw caution to the wind and be with Evan every possible moment he can. He’s never been the cautious type, so it’s no surprise what part is winning.

 

Evan’s bed is more comfortable, anyway.

 

And it has Evan in it.

 

When the plane touches down in the Twin Cities, he rubs his face absently and tries not to look like he’s been napping as he grabs his carry-on from the overhead locker and disembarks.

 

The airport’s pretty busy, which makes sense this close to Christmas, and as he heads out into the arrivals area Connor can see families and loved ones doing the whole airport reunion thing and even though it’s cheesy as hell, he can’t help but crack a smile.

 

The smile gets even wider when he spots Gus and Pampushka. Connor can tell the minute Gus sees him - his whole face lights up and he waves and starts walking toward him and almost before he knows it, Connor’s being swept into a fierce, tight hug.

 

“Merry Christmas!” Gus exclaims happily. “It is very good to see you.”

 

“It’s good to see you too,” Connor replies warmly.

 

Gus takes Connor’s bag, despite his protests, and they head out to the carpark. “The flight, it is good?”

 

“Not bad. I slept through most of it.”

 

Gus nods and looks at Connor a little more closely. “You are looking tired. Working hard doing study, yes? Is okay. You rest while you are on vacation with us. We send you back fresh for more learning.”

 

“Sounds good,” Connor replies, and it’s just so good to see his twin again that he can’t help but smile.

 

They pile into Gus’s van, which is far tidier than it has any right to be considering he conducts most of his business from it. Pampushka takes her seat between Gus and Connor, curling up happily, and Gus takes a moment to scratch behind her ear before starting the van.

 

“So you are telling me you have news,” Gus says, once they’re on the road. “That you do not want to talk of it over email, but that it is good news.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, trying not to smile too much at the thought of what he’s got to say. “I, uh, just wanted to let you know that I’m seeing someone.”

 

Gus’s eyes widen, and he looks at Connor with a cautious smile. “Does he write poetry?” Gus asks, his voice a little too pointed to be truly casual.

 

Connor cracks up laughing. “No, not even a little bit. He’s, uh… his name is Evan.” Connor braces himself, then continues. “He lives in Boston, and he’s a friend of Reed.”

 

Gus’s eyes widen even more. “If he is a friend of Reed,” Gus begins cautiously, “then… he knows of the clones, yes?”

 

“Yes,” Connor admits. “He does. He’s, uh, he’s known for a few months now. Actually, I’ve known him for a long time. I’ve known him since… elementary school, actually.”

 

Connor’s starting to think that he shouldn’t have started this conversation while Gus was driving, because Gus genuinely starts at this. “Elementary school? When you are young? Then he knows you are Connor, and not Ben.”

 

“He does,” Connor says. “And it’s… it’s okay. It’s good, actually.”

 

Gus looks more than a little confused. “I think this is long story,” Gus says. “Start from beginning, yes? We have long drive. Tell me all.”

 

Connor takes a deep breath, and tells Gus everything, from Evan’s note found on Ben’s body, to Evan meeting Reed and recognizing their face three years later, to Connor bursting out of Reed’s bedroom to announce that ‘surprise, he’s not dead and also a clone!’.

 

He tells Gus about DYAD.

 

About how Evan’s playing double agent.

 

Gus is, as usual, focused on the road, but Connor knows he’s listening. Every now and then, he’ll ask a clarifying question, and Connor will explain, but mostly Gus just listens and takes it all in.

 

Gus has always been a good listener.

 

“I think,” says Gus once Connor finally finishes his tale, “that Dad needs to know this. All of this. We talk when we get home, yes?”

 

“Sure,” Connor agrees. He hesitates for a moment. “We can trust Evan,” he says firmly. “I know it. He wouldn’t have come to Reed to tell them about the study if we couldn’t.”

 

“I do not know him,” Gus admits, “but I trust you. And if you say we can trust him, then I trust him.” He smiles and shoots Connor a look. “Plus, I see how you go soft when you speak of him. You are liking him very, very much, I can tell.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says warmly. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

 

When they finally get home, it’s snowing and the house is covered in lights. It’s beautiful, Connor has to admit. Gus catches him looking and smiles proudly.

 

“I am putting up the lights,” he announces. “There is competition for most beautiful lights in neighborhood. I am nominated, but I do not win. This is okay, though - house that wins has many, many things. Robinson family put much more work in than I do.” He grins. “All the ladies in the supermarket checkout lines says that I deserve to win because our house is more classy. They say I was robbed.”

 

Connor can’t help but crack up. “It looks amazing,” he says.

 

Gus’s face breaks into an even wider smile. “Maybe later this week, we go for a walk to see all the houses,” he suggests. “We will wear hats, and have thermos of hot chocolate. Is good, yes?”

 

“Sounds awesome.”

 

They get inside the house, where it’s warm and again, beautifully decorated. Gus really has gone all out this year. Connor’s always known that Gus was an artist and had a good eye, but this year he really seems to have nailed it. Everything’s beautiful and tasteful but still has personality.

 

Connor briefly thinks about his mother’s fancy Christmas decorations and how everything was beautiful and tasteful but kind of fake, in a way.

 

She’d be impressed by Gus’s decorations, he thinks.

 

Then he tucks the thought away because it’s just too painful.

 

Gus takes Connor’s bag into his room and Connor takes the opportunity to start making coffee. He’s just finished boiling the water when he hears another car pull up. Pampushka rushes to the door to greet Seamus, who’s wearing an oversized scarf and hat and looks tired but pleased to see him.

 

Seamus pulls Connor into a warm hug and Connor lets himself enjoy it. Seamus smells the same way he always does and it’s always made Connor feel safe.

 

“Good trip?” Seamus asks, and Connor nods in confirmation.

 

“Would you like coffee?” Connor asks.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

Once they’ve all got coffee, the three of them sit on the sofa.

 

“So, how’s everything going in New York?” Seamus asks. “Studies going alright?”

 

Connor looks at Gus, who nods in encouragement, then back to Seamus. “I have something I need to tell you,” he begins cautiously. “It wasn’t something I could just tell you over the phone or email earlier, but it’s information you need to know. But… I’m going to tell you about it, and then we’re not going to worry about it for the rest of my vacation, okay? Because it’s Christmas, and I don’t get to see you guys often enough for us to spend the whole break freaking out.”

 

Seamus looks troubled, but nods in agreement.

 

And once again, Connor tells the whole story of how he remet Evan, about DYAD, about Reed and the other clones, about how Evan’s now a double agent.

 

About the clone illness.

 

When he reaches the part about the illness, Seamus goes white, and frowns. As Connor keeps explaining, an expression he can’t quite figure out flashes across Seamus’s face for just a moment, but is quickly gone.

 

Once he’s finished, Seamus sighs. “Obviously, I have questions,” he says. “But I’ll keep it short. The most important thing I need to know is that you’re safe.”

 

“I’m as safe as I can be,” Connor replies, as honestly as he can. “Evan… he knows what DYAD’s capable of. He understands. He’s the one who’s in more danger than I am, to be honest.” He leans in and looks Seamus straight in the eye. “He wants to help. He wants to save us. Save all of us. He… he doesn’t have to be doing any of this, but he is. He’s a good person, Dad. One of the best. We’re lucky to have him on our side.”

 

Seamus nods. “It sounds like it. I just need to know you’re being careful.”

 

“I’m always careful.”

 

Gus smirks. “Is Christmas, Connor. If you lie, Santa will not give you presents.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile. “Okay, I’m seldom careful, but I’ll start being careful.”

 

“That’s all I ask,” Seamus says. He stands up. “There’s steak in the fridge,” he says with a smile. “Thought I’d cook for you boys tonight.”

 

“I will help,” Gus says, standing up.

 

Connor stands up, too, and follows them into the kitchen, where they don’t let him do anything to help prepare the meal, which he doesn’t really mind. He sits at the kitchen island and they have an idle conversation as the meal’s prepared.

 

It’s nice. It’s domestic. It’s cozy.

 

It’s home.

 

Connor’s glad to be home.

 

* * *

Gus is looking forward to having Connor home for Christmas for much time, and it is very, very, very good to have him here. Dad has to work for the days before Christmas, but Gus has already closed his business for all of the time Connor is here.

 

Connor’s visit is short, and he will be going home the day after Christmas, so Gus wants to use all the time they are together wisely.

 

It is two days before Christmas, and the winter market is open. Gus makes sure that Connor is dressed warm, because it is more cold in Wisconsin than he is used to, and they go for a walk into the city to visit the winter market.

 

Gus does not want to admit, but there is very little they are needing for Christmas. Mostly he is wanting to see Handsome Fruit Man.

 

Handsome Fruit Man has a heater neat his market stand, so there are many people who sit and drink hot chocolate nearby. He is dressed very warm, and is wearing a hat with a pompom on top.

 

Gus thinks it is very cute.

 

Handsome Fruit Man looks happy to see him, but looks a little surprised to see Connor as well. He smiles wide and waves at them.

 

“Hi Gus,” he greets him as they approach. “And Connor, good to see you again.”

 

“Good to see you, too,” Connor says with a big smile.

 

“Merry Christmas, Ray,” says Gus, feeling his cheeks go pink. He hopes that Ray will not notice, because it is cold and everyone has pink cheeks. He pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I have this for you.”

 

He hands it over to Ray, who looks at it and smiles. “Thank you,” he replies, his voice grateful. “It’s beautiful.”

 

“What is it?” Connor asks curiously.

 

Ray shows him. “Gus keeps drawing me pictures of different varieties of apples,” he says. “This is a Pink Lady, which is a really good late season apple.” He grins at Gus. “Just for that, I’m giving you a bag.”

 

“I will pay,” Gus insists.

 

“Nope,” says Handsome Fruit Man cheerfully. “You know the rules - you make me amazing art, you get free fruit.”

 

“This is no way to run a business,” Gus replies with a smile.

 

“Never say no to free stuff,” Connor chimes in, grinning widely. He points at the picture. “This is really good, Gus.”

 

Gus blushes. “Drawing is fun,” he admits. “Relaxing. I like it very much.”

 

Ray points to his sign, which is covered in all the pictures Gus has drawn over the months. “It’s tradition by now,” he explains to Connor.

 

“Looks like it,” Connor says, looking at the sign. He looks like he is impressed, and Gus can feel his cheeks go more pink.

 

Handsome Fruit Man hands him a bag of apples and will not take the money Gus tries to give him. Their hands touch when he passes over the bag, and even though there are gloves, Gus still feels warm and tingly when they touch.

 

He likes Handsome Fruit Man very much.

 

They smile at each other for some time.

 

“We should go,” Gus says after a while. “Is not good for Pampushka to stay in the cold for too long without moving.”

 

“We should get her a hat,” Connor suggests. “Or a sweater. She’d look super cute.”

 

“She really would,” Ray agrees. “Well, I won’t keep you. Happy holidays.” He looks at Connor, his expression more serious. “Gus has really been looking forward to having you here. I hope you guys have an awesome vacation together.”

 

“Thank you,” Connor replies, his voice sincere. “Happy holidays to you, too.”

 

They leave and walk around the market a little longer, but there is nothing else Gus is needing for Christmas dinner. He has been planning the meal for some time, wanting to have the best Christmas for his brother, so all is very organized.

 

When they are walking back to the house, Connor turns to look at him.

 

“Next time you give Handsome Fruit Man a picture of an apple,” he says with a grin, “you should make sure you put your phone number on it.”

 

Gus goes pink. “He does not need my phone number.”

 

“Pretty sure he does. Pretty sure he wants it.” Connor rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure he’s really into you, Gus. I was sure back in summer and I’m even more sure now. Why not make a move?”

 

Gus is uneasy. “I would not know how,” he admits.

 

“Bring him a coffee next time you’re at the market,” Connor suggests. “Give him your phone number. Anything. Just do something.”

 

They walk in silence for a bit longer, and Gus is deep in thought.

 

Handsome Fruit Man is very nice. Very kind. Very, very handsome. And he is a good friend. But Gus does not know if he wants to be more. Gus cannot tell.

 

Connor says that Handsome Fruit Man is interested in him as more than a friend, but Gus cannot be sure that Connor is biased and sees it differently because he is Gus’s twin. Gus knows that he is strange. Because English is not his first language, sometimes he is saying things that are strange. Because he has an upbringing that is very different, sometimes he is doing things that are strange. He tries very hard to be normal, but it is not easy.

 

Dad says he does not need to be normal. That he only needs to be himself.

 

Gus is starting to have more confidence that he knows who he is, but it takes time.

 

Maybe in the New Year, he will talk to Handsome Fruit Man.

 

“Oh,” Connor says, as though he is having a thought. “So, it’s just an idea at the moment, but Reed was talking about doing something for our 21sts. You should come.”

 

Gus looks at him. “21sts? What do you mean?”

 

“Our next birthday,” Connor explains. “We’re turning twenty-one. It’s a big birthday.”

 

“It is when one can buy alcohol, yes?” Gus asks. “Is different in Europe, I think. Mostly there is eighteen.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “Well, since all of the clones have birthdays around the same time, Reed thought we should have a party. They said something about a lakehouse in Maine. We could get you a flight out of Minnesota, I could pick you up.”

 

“Or I can drive,” Gus counters. “I do not like to fly.”

 

“Gus, it’s like, twenty hours of driving.”

 

Gus shrugs. “Is okay. I like my van.”

 

Connor looks at him and frowns for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, if you’re okay with it, then okay. It’s still an idea, anyway. I’ll let you know when I hear more.”

 

“It would be in February, yes?” Gus asks.

 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “Near the end, I think. Like, the weekend after our birthday.”

 

Gus nods. “I think this would be good. I would like to spend some time with clones. Get to know them.”

 

Much is different now. Now that he knows clones are not abominations, he can connect. Even when he is young and is trained to kill clones, there is a small voice inside that says they are the same. To kill a clone is always to kill a part of himself.

 

It is always hard.

 

Gus has a list in his head of all the names of the clones he has killed. Sometimes at night, he lies awake and thinks of them. Before he kills, he finds out about them and their lives.

 

He remembers small details of all seventeen.

 

He remembers all seventeen.

 

When he and his clones are fifteen, this is the year he kills the most. Christmas of this year, he is in Denmark. It is very cold in Denmark, and they stay in a house with holes in the roof. The house is condemned, and no one is there, and there is no power and no water.

 

Tatiana tells him that his target is Otto Brandt.

 

He spends some time watching Otto Brandt. Otto has many friends, and is not often alone, so August spends much time watching. He mostly does not understand what Otto is saying, because he does not speak Danish, but sometimes he is speaking English to a girl who is a bit older than them who speaks strangely.

 

She is exchange, they say. August does not know what this means, but it is good that he can understand, even for a small moment.

 

They speak of Christmas, and exchange girl says that her Christmas is warm and sunny, and they go to the beach. This is very strange, August thinks, and Otto seems to agree.

 

It is strange to agree with the abomination.

 

It is another thing to make them the same, and August does not like this.

 

Exchange girl asks what Otto wants for Christmas, and Otto says he is asking his parents for paints to make art, and August finds that he feels very jealous.

 

He has his pencil and his tiny notebook, and they must be hidden from Tatiana because she does not want him to have this.

 

Otto says he likes to paint, and August would like this also. He sees paints sometimes in shops and thinks they could be used to create beautiful things, and that he would like this very much.

 

August does not like that Otto likes to paint.

 

He does not like to be the same as abomination.

 

When he kills Otto, the night before Christmas, it is inside his house, in his room. Otto does not see it coming, but he is awake when August slits his throat, and stares at him like he does not believe this is happening.

 

The children expect a visitor the night before Christmas, this is true.

 

But not a visitor who brings death.

 

Tatiana brings meat to the cold, broken house on Christmas and August eats his fill. She gives him a new blade to purify himself, and he makes sure his cuts are deep this day.

 

He will make amends with God for being like abomination.

 

He will be clean, and God will forgive him.

 

“Gus? Hey, are you okay?”

 

Gus returns to the present and realizes he is shaking. Pampushka licks his hand, and Connor looks concerned.

 

“I am remembering,” Gus mumbles. “It is… it is hard, sometimes.”

 

“Let’s get you inside,” Connor says firmly, and it is lucky they are not far from home. They walk quickly, and when they are home, Connor makes hot chocolate, and they sit in front of the TV and watch Space Jam.

 

Later that night, Gus looks at his easel and his paints and thinks of Otto.

 

Of the beauty he might have created, if it had not been for August.

 

Gus promises himself that in the new year, he will make something very beautiful, and think of Otto.

 

* * *

Seamus has Christmas Eve off work, and Gus is hard at work cooking a bunch of things that Seamus doesn’t recognize but has to admit smells really good. Connor looks equally as confused, and Gus cheerfully explains what he’s doing as they all drink their morning coffee.

 

“In Ukraine, Christmas Eve is not today,” he says. “It is January 6. Is different calendar. But today is Christmas Eve in America, and so I make dinner for us tonight. In Ukraine, Christmas Eve is very important. There is dinner, with 12 courses, and this is for the 12 apostles.” He looks at Seamus and Connor, his expression a little apologetic. “At first, I decide to make all traditional foods of Ukraine that are for Christmas Eve, but then I think that perhaps you are not liking them. So, we have… mix-up. Some are traditional, some are not. But we have 12 courses. We start with kutia, which is the most important, and after that, I get creative.”

 

“It sounds awesome,” Connor says firmly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

Gus laughs. “I am sure I find something. For now, you drink your coffee, and eat your toast. But only small toast - you must save space for dinner.”

 

“I will,” Connor promises, and Gus grins as he starts emptying what looks like bread dough out onto the counter to start kneading it.

 

As the day progresses, it turns out that Gus seems to have pretty firm control over what’s going on and Seamus and Connor are just getting in the way. They offer help, and every now and then find themselves peeling potatoes, grating cheese or chopping onions, but most of the time Gus is just going for it.

 

Just after three o’clock, Gus lets out a noise of frustration and Connor heads straight to him. “What’s up?” he asks.

 

“I have no eggs,” says Gus, frowning. “I used all of them before, and now I do not have them for dessert making.”

 

“I can go and get eggs,” Connor offers. “How many do you need?”

 

“At least six,” Gus says, nodding.

 

“I’ll get a dozen,” Connor says. “Can I borrow your van?”

 

Gus looks like he wants to say no, so Seamus pulls his keys out of his pocket and hands them to Connor. “Take my car,” he says, and Connor nods and heads out the door.

 

“Thank you,” Gus says once Connor’s gone. “Last time he drives my van, I do not think he understands that it is much bigger than normal car, and is almost crashing many times. But I do not like to say he is bad driver.”

 

“Oh, he drives like a maniac,” Seamus agrees with a laugh. “But my old piece of junk can take it.”

 

Seamus gets some water from the fridge while Gus stirs something tomato based over the stove. Gus looks thoughtful. “Dad, I can ask you something?”

 

“Sure,” Seamus replies.

 

“You are sure that Connor will be safe in New York by himself, yes?”

 

Seamus sighs. He’s never wanted to lie to the boys, and he’s not about to start now. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

 

Gus nods, still with that thoughtful look. “I am thinking,” he says, his tone light, “that maybe soon, we think about moving closer. New York, I think has many bad memories, but Reed is in Boston, and I look at smaller parts of the city. Not many dog groomers. Room for my business. I am saving much money, and perhaps… well, Boston is not so far from New York. I would like to see Connor more often.” His face darkens somewhat. “I would also like to be near if things are going badly.”

 

Seamus frowns. His gut reaction is no.

 

Absolutely not.

 

If there’s danger in Boston with DYAD, then Seamus doesn’t want Gus anywhere near that.

 

But Gus is nearly 21, and realistically he can do what he wants.

 

And he’s grown so much.

 

He’s healed so much.

 

“I don’t think we should be making any snap decisions,” he says after a moment. “But I… I understand wanting to be closer to Connor, and I understand worrying.” He looks at Gus, his expression solemn. “Since Connor told us about what’s been happening, I’ve talked to some of my contacts in the Boston area. I want to believe everything’s going to be okay, but I can’t help but feel like…”

 

“Like something bad is coming,” Gus continues, nodding, his expression grave. “I understand this. DYAD is still threat, and we must be vigilant.”

 

Seamus doesn’t want to ask, but he feels like he should. “You haven’t had any headaches, have you? Any signs of this illness?”

 

Gus shakes his head. “No.” He grows thoughtful. “Mostly, I am in excellent health. When I am young, this is so as well, even though I live where it is cold and damp. It is not often I get sick, and when I injure it does not take long to be well again. Is a blessing, I think. I am healthy person.”

 

Seamus thinks of the way Gus’s cuts healed up, right in front of him, that summer he tried to take his own life.

 

It’s more than a blessing that Gus has kept in good health.

 

It’s something else.

 

Seamus hopes like hell it extends to this clone illness.

 

That somehow, Gus and Connor are immune.

 

He knows it’s selfish to hope that his boys don’t have to deal with it, but he hopes it anyway.

 

“I think it is good that Connor has a person who cares for him,” Gus says after a moment. “His Evan is sounding like a good man. He talks of him much, now that we know. Says he is very smart, and very kind, and is funny and has much compassion and looks out for all clones.”

 

“I’m glad, too,” Seamus replies.

 

Gus bites his lip, and continues. “I think it is good that Connor has someone who knows that he is Connor. Not Ben. I worry, sometimes, that he loses himself, when many people know him as Ben. To have someone he is close to, who is knowing who he truly is… this is very good.”

 

Seamus wants to believe that, too, but he’s still caught up in the danger of it all.

 

The danger of someone knowing who Connor really is.

 

Connor gets back with the eggs and presents them with a flourish. “Danielle at the supermarket wants you to know that she thinks Mr. Robinson bribed the judges,” he announces. “She’s going to do a full investigation and get back to you.”

 

Gus cracks up laughing. Seamus looks at Connor with a questioning look, and Connor just shrugs, which makes Gus laugh even more.

 

When Gus starts making what looks like some kind of meringue thing, Seamus gestures for Connor to follow him into the living room and sits him down on the couch. “I just wanted to check,” says Seamus, as calmly as he can. “Did you tell Evan about Gus?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not yet.”

 

“Good.”

 

“It’s not because I don’t trust him,” Connor says firmly. “It’s that I don’t trust DYAD.”

 

Seamus nods. “Okay. Just out of curiosity, where does he think you are?”

 

“He knows I have plans for the holidays, but that’s all he knows,” Connor admits. “I don’t like not telling him, but if it’ll keep Gus safe, then I’ll do it.” His face softens. “Gus comes first. He always comes first. Regardless of how much I lo- how much I care about Evan.”

 

As night starts to fall, Gus goes outside and Seamus and Connor follow him. “We look for the first star,” Gus informs them. “When we see the first star, then we know it is time to start the dinner.”

 

“I think that’s it,” says Connor, pointing to the horizon.

 

Gus looks, then breaks into a smile. “It is! First star, then dinner.” He looks excited. “I have not done this since I am very, very small. When I am in monastery with monks, before… before.” He ushers them inside and they head into the dining room, where Gus has laid a table with four settings.

 

“There’s only three of us,” Connor points out, looking at the table.

 

“The extra is for those who have passed on,” Gus says, his voice soft. “Is tradition. Is for family who are dead. I look it all up, to make sure I am remembering correctly.” He looks at Seamus and smiles sadly. “It is said the dead return on Christmas Eve to partake in food with us. I think this is… symbol, and not real, but I like to think that we have dinner with our whole family. That Anthea is here, also.”

 

There’s a stab of pain in Seamus’s chest at the thought.

 

She would have loved to have spent Christmas with her boys.

 

She would have loved to have been here.

 

“She’d be proud of you,” Seamus says quietly. “Of both of you.”

 

Gus looks at Seamus. “I do not have it all right,” he admits. “There is supposed to be wheat, for ancestors. But there is also traditions and it is for the father or the head of the household to do. If I show you how, you can do this?”

 

“Of course,” Seamus assures him. “Whatever you need.”

 

“Okay,” Gus says, looking a little uncertain. “I give you things to put on the table, and then we have bread and you dip it in honey. Then there is prayer, but you do not have to do this.”

 

“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do,” Seamus says gently.

 

It takes a while, and Seamus knows he’s fumbling through it, but he puts a bowl of kutia on the table, which Gus explains is wheat, poppy seeds and honey, and also a jug of something he can’t pronounce, which is stewed fruits. Gus explains that these are God’s foods, and looks somewhat uncertain, but continues on.

 

Seamus thinks this must be hard for Gus, trying to hang on to traditions from his youth, having been so young when he experienced them. He’s been researching, trying to get it all right, but at the end of the day, Gus can only do so much. Seamus is proud that he’s trying and vows to make sure that he works as hard as he can to do it right.

 

From the look on Connor’s face, Seamus knows he feels similarly.

 

Seamus takes a piece of bread and dips it in honey, then launches into a Catholic grace he’s had drilled into him since birth.

 

“Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

 

Connor joins in, which surprises Seamus a little. When he catches his eye, Connor blushes a little. “I, uh, I know that one,” he says. “My family’s Catholic.”

 

Gus is absolutely beaming. Encouraged, Seamus gives his sons chunks of the bread, and the three of them eat in companionable silence.

 

“We start with kutia,” Gus says after they’ve finished with the bread. “I only make a small amount, because I am not sure if you like it. But after this, I have made many different things that I know you will like, and also delicious dessert. So it is like we have tradition, but also… very different.” He looks a little embarrassed. “I think if the monks see this, they are very shocked that it is not right, but I also think that God sees I make effort.” A small smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “There is monk when I grow up, who is not like other monks. He… he is not traditional and is saying many bad words, which I am not supposed to know, but he is also very kind when I get things wrong. He says that even when things are not perfect, God sees that we try and that it is good.”

 

“That’s cool,” says Connor, and it looks he’s trying not to laugh. “So you’re saying a monk taught you how to swear?”

 

Gus grins. “ебать тебе.

 

Connor gasps. “Gus, such language on Christmas Eve!”

 

Gus cracks up laughing, and Connor joins in immediately, and Seamus can’t help but chuckle.

 

It’s good to see the twins together.

 

It feels right, having all of them together like this.

 

“Okay, so now you serve the kutia,” Gus instructs Seamus. “Just small amounts, I think. It is supposed to be main part of the meal, but I am not sure it is to your taste.” He looks apologetic. “Much of the foods when I grow up are very different to what we eat here.”

 

Seamus picks up the bowl and serves a small amount on everyone’s plates. At Gus’s encouraging nod, he tries a little and finds that while it’s not the best thing he’s ever eaten, it’s not terrible. Gus finishes his quickly, and Seamus finds himself wishing he’d served him a bit more, but when he goes to offer more Gus shakes his head.

 

“There is much more food to come,” Gus says cheerfully. “I am wanting to cook turkey, because it is what you eat in Ireland at Christmas, but we are only 3. So, I cook small chicken, and we have small ham. And because there are supposed to be twelve foods, I cook potatoes, and also make quiche, and there is also pasta, and also some garlic bread, and also I make cauliflower with cheese sauce, and there is also… hang on, I will check.”

 

Gus gets up and goes back into the kitchen. Connor and Seamus exchange a look.

 

“You do realize that you’re going to have enough food to last you well into the New Year,” Connor says.

 

Seamus laughs. “Gus has a tendency to over cater,” he says fondly. “But you can fit a whole lot of leftovers in our freezer, which is pretty good. I’m sure he’ll pack something up for you to take back to New York.”

 

Connor laughs. “Whatever he’s cooked is probably better for me than what I usually eat.”

 

“Let me guess, mostly ramen and takeout?”

 

“Hey, I can cook more than ramen,” Connor says, in a mock-offended tone. He grins. “I can, but I don’t. Not really.”

 

Gus comes in with a large tray full of various dishes. Along with everything he’d already mentioned, Seamus spots what looks like some kind of dumpling, along with what might be a fish pie, sweet potatoes, meatballs and, surprisingly enough, quesadillas. He puts everything on the table and they all dig in. Everything’s delicious, and there’s plenty of it.

 

“There is also dessert,” Gus announces as they eat. “So save the space. I am finding the recipe on the internet, it is called pavlova and I like it because it is fluffy like a cloud.” He grins. “I also make chocolate mousse, and also there is apple pie.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve planned a whole other meal for tomorrow,” says Connor as he eats a quesadilla.

 

Gus laughs. “Tomorrow, we have Christmas brunch,” he says cheerfully. “I make waffles, and we have bacon and much coffee.” He nods. “And then we eat what we have leftover in the evening if we are still hungry.”

 

“I may never be hungry again,” Seamus says as he helps himself to his third serving of fish pie. “This is amazing.”

 

“Gus is amazing,” Connor says fondly. “Thank you for doing all of this.”

 

Gus’s ears turn pink and he ducks his head down and looks at his plate. “It is for me as much as it is for you,” he says after a moment. “I am wanting to have a Christmas like what I remember when I am small, very much. I know it is not exactly, but is good, yes?”

 

“It’s awesome,” Connor insists. “It’s totally awesome.”

 

When they start on dessert, Seamus brings out a bottle of port and pours each of them a glass. There’s a moment where they all look at each other, and Seamus takes the opportunity to raise his glass. “Merry Christmas,” he says quietly. “I’m glad we’re together.”

 

They clink their glasses together, all three of them, and smile at each other over the glow of candlelight.

 

Seamus thinks he’ll remember tonight for a long, long time to come.

 

* * *

Connor wakes up to Pampushka licking his nose. He can hear Gus sighing.

 

“Pampushka, let Connor sleep! Is still early.”

 

“I’m up,” Connor mumbles, then sits up and pushes his hair off his face. Gus is standing in the doorway, looking apologetic.

 

“I was going to make coffee,” he says. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

 

“I’m up,” he repeats, actually getting out of bed this time. He pulls his twin into a hug before he can say anything. “Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Connor.”

 

Connor follows his twin into the kitchen and takes over the coffee making duties while Gus starts on waffle batter. “Is no hurry,” Gus says. “I do not cook until Dad wakes up, and he may sleep for some more time.” He grins. “Old men like their sleep.”

 

Connor snorts. “He’s not even that old.”

 

Gus grins. “I know. I like to tease.”

 

Once the waffle batter is ready, Gus and Connor move into the lounge to drink their coffees. “We wait for Dad for presents,” Gus says, “except for one.” He goes to the tree and picks up a wrapped gift from underneath it, then hands it to Connor. “I want you to open this when it is just us.”

 

Connor unwraps it carefully to reveal a canvas. It’s a candid photo of the two of them that Seamus must have taken without him noticing last summer. They’re sitting on the porch, Pampushka between them, and Connor’s laughing at something Gus had said. They’re looking at each other, both kind of squinting in the sunshine, and there’s so much warmth and love in the image that it takes Connor’s breath away, just for a moment.

 

On closer inspection, Connor realizes that this isn’t a printed canvas photo. It’s a painting.

 

“It takes some time to paint,” Gus says with a smile. “But I think it turns out good, yes?”

 

“This is amazing,” Connor murmurs. “Did you copy it from a photo?”

 

“No,” Gus says simply. “Is from a memory.”

 

Connor can feel himself starting to choke up. “It’s incredible,” he manages to say, before pulling Gus into a firm hug.

 

“I am glad you like it,” says Gus. “It is good for you to have a piece of home, wherever you go.”

 

Connor nods. “Yeah.”

 

They smile at each other awkwardly for a while. Connor tries to come up with the words to express just how much he loves it, how much he loves spending time with his twin, how much Gus means to him, but there just aren’t any.

 

Connor thinks Gus knows.

 

It doesn’t take long for Seamus to join them in the living room. They sit and exchange gifts, then all move into the kitchen to start on brunch. It’s a quiet, leisurely kind of morning, that turns into an even more leisurely afternoon, and it’s completely different to any Christmas Connor ever had growing up.

 

He wonders what his family is doing today.

 

He knows that Evan was at his parents' place on Christmas Eve. Evan had mentioned it briefly, and Connor had hesitantly asked how his family are doing. Evan had said that Larry and Cynthia had seemed good last time he talked to them, but hadn’t said much about Zoe. When Connor pressed for more information, Evan had refused.

 

“It feels weird, talking about her,” he’d said, shaking his head. “It’s not right that you know things about her while she doesn’t even know you’re alive.”

 

“Maybe one day I can tell her,” Connor had said, a little hopefully. “I can… I don’t know, get in touch? Let her know I’m alive and I’m okay. And we can… we can try and be close again. Like we were when we were kids.”

 

“What about your parents?” Evan asked, frowning. “Would you ask her to keep something that big from them?”

 

“I don’t know,” Connor had admitted. “I… maybe. I just…”

 

He didn’t tell Evan that he’s daydreamed about showing up at their house for Christmas, with a big bag of presents and a mouth full of apologies. He’d daydreamed there’d be shock and there’d be tears but after the initial reaction, they’d hug and his mother would cry and they’d sit down for a probably tasteless meal and they’d…

 

Connor knows there’s no way it would end well.

 

He knows.

 

There’s no scenario in which his family finds out he’s alive and it’s not a mess of yelling and hurt and betrayal, but it doesn’t mean a part of him doesn’t want it.

 

Connor looks over at Gus, who’s put on the pair of fluffy socks that Connor had included in his Christmas present and is sitting in front of the television, watching Space Jam and eating cold leftover meatballs with his fingers. Gus smiles, and Connor’s reminded that even though he’s lost so much, he’s gained a lot, too.

 

Later that night, he gets a text from Evan. He texts back immediately, asking if he can call, and when Evan replies he dials his number straight away.

 

“Merry Christmas,” Connor says warmly as the call connects. “I miss you.”

 

“You sap,” Evan teases. “I miss you, too.”

 

Connor lies down on the couch and settles in. “Good Christmas with your mom?”

 

“Yeah,” Evan replies. “Good Christmas with… wherever you are, whoever you’re with?”

 

Evan’s words are casual, but Connor can hear the weight behind them. He frowns. “I don’t like keeping things from you,” he admits, “I just can’t tell you where I am now. But hopefully, I can one day.”

 

“I know,” Evan assures him. “I know, and I know it’s not… it’s not that you just, like, don’t trust me or whatever-”

 

“I trust you,” Connor interrupts. “But I don’t trust the people you work for. And the less you know, the safer it is, okay?”

 

Evan sighs, and Connor feels awful. He’s about to say something when Evan speaks up. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

 

“I did,” Connor says, “Would have had a better one with you, though.”

 

And that’s true, but it would be even better if Evan was here, with him and Gus and Seamus. He can picture Evan sitting at the table, his face lit up by the candles in the bread wreath, sharing the bread with honey on Christmas Eve and watching in amazement as Gus shows up with a truly ridiculous amount of food.

 

But it’s not safe for Evan to know about Gus and Seamus yet.

 

Maybe by next Christmas, it might be.

 

“Let’s just have our own Christmas next year, okay?” he says, instead of what he’s thinking.

 

“That’s awfully confident of you,” Evan says, his tone teasing, “thinking you’ll be able to put up with me for another whole year.”

 

“Not a doubt in my mind,” Connor says immediately, his voice soft and fond.

 

He can’t imagine ever letting Evan go.  

 

“I can’t wait to see you at New Year’s,” he adds. “Evan and Connor’s Excellent NYC Adventure is finally happening.”

 

“I feel like you should knock on wood when you say that,” Evan says, and he sounds sad. “We’ve had the worst luck.”

 

“I don’t see it that way,” Connor says. He knows it’s cheesy, but he can’t help what he says next. “I think I’m pretty damn lucky to have you in my life."

 

There’s a pause, and then Evan replies.  “I think I am, too."

 

“Merry Christmas,” Connor says quietly, wishing Evan were here in Wisconsin with him.

 

Wishing he could see his parents and his sister.

 

Wishing there was a way that everyone he loves could be in one place.

 

“Merry Christmas,” says Evan, and just hearing his voice makes the ache in Connor’s chest subside a little.

 

As he ends the call, he notices Gus standing the doorway. Connor smiles, and gestures for him to come over.

 

“You talk to your Evan, yes?” Gus says, and Connor sees he’s got a plate of leftover quesadillas with him. Connor grabs one off his plate to find that they’re cold, but eats one anyway.

 

“Yeah,” Connor says with a smile.

 

“He has a good Christmas?”

 

“Yeah, he did.”

 

“And you?” Gus asks, looking at him intently. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

 

Connor grins. “Yeah. I really, really did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, guys.


End file.
